The Christmas Project
by skygirl55
Summary: Officer Kate Beckett is just trying to make her way through the holiday season with as little yuletide interaction as possible, but the more frequently she runs into a Santa Claus named Rick, the more he might be succeeding in warming her up to the season generally known as her least favorite. Caskett pre-series AU meet.
1. Chapter 1

_Officer Kate Beckett is just trying to make her way through the holiday season with as little yuletide interaction as possible, but the more frequently she runs into a Santa Claus named Rick, the more he might be succeeding in warming her up to the season generally known as her least favorite. Caskett pre-series AU meet._

* * *

 **ONE**

Kate Beckett stepped out of her cruiser in front of the sidewalk bearing oversized red-and-white striped candy cane markers and banner stretched between them stating, "Welcome to Santa's Village. Santa is: IN!" She groaned. It wasn't that she hated Christmas she just…well, she did not wish to celebrate it. If others wanted to celebrate? Fine, that was their business; she just didn't want to have Christmas screaming at her from every inch of the city. Of course, that was nearly impossible now that it was the first day of December, but she tried her best to avoid it and usually succeeded—that was until dispatch sent her to Ground Zero.

When news of a mugging at Santa's Village's Central Park location came through on her scanner Kate immediately hoped she was not the one sent to the scene. Give her a store robbery, a traffic accident, or—hell—she'd even write parking tickets! Anything but Santa's Village. Yet, there she was just a few hundred feet away from screaming children, impatient parents, and one very displeased grandmother who now lacked her pocketbook. God help her.

Taking in a deep breath, Kate adjusted the heavy utility belt at her hips and began to make her way down the candy-cane cutout lined path. She could already hear the hum of conversation from the groups waiting in line to sit on Santa's lap and ask him for a bike, a dollhouse, or…what did kids want these days? Video games, probably.

As she tucked her hands in her coat pockets, Kate was thankful for one thing: the weather that day was seasonably pleasant. It wasn't snowing, raining, or particularly windy. True, forty-eight was not the warmest for an outside temperature, but the sun was peeking out behind the clouds enough for her to feel reasonably warm with the multiple layers she wore, which was good. Adding blowing snow to her already anti-Christmas attitude would have meant a very unpleasant day for her.

Rounding a curve in the sidewalk, the full Santa's Village display came into view and Kate groaned under her breath; it was worse than she anticipated. Whimsical reindeer statues monitored the entrance to the line where dozens of families waited their turn with Santa. In the middle of the clearing, oversized boxes wrapped with red, green, and gold sat beneath twinkling lights and ribbon dancing in the light breeze. High above her, on a raised pedestal beneath a wooden hut labeled "North Pole" (what else?) sat the man himself in classic garb. Glistening snowflakes hanging from the trees above completed the park adornments. Really, the only thing missing was piles of white fluffy snow, though she very much doubted any of the parents minded the absence.

Knowing she needed to get to the task at hand, Kate searched the immediate area for the purse-snatching victim. She wasn't hard to spot: the tearful woman Kate guessed to be in her early or mid-seventies stood surrounded by a couple in their forties and three school-aged children. She approached them and inquired to confirm they were the ones who had called for assistance. When they confirmed, Kate continued with her perfect routine of getting the information necessary to fill out her repots as well as do what she could to help them.

Sad as it was, muggings were not often solved unless the thieves were dumb enough to use the stolen credit cards at stores with security cameras; and even then not always. The police just generally did not have enough information to go on other than eyewitnesses, which were often sketchy at best. Still, it was horrible, particularly for this woman who estimated she had four hundred dollars in cash in the bag; apparently she and her family had been planning their New York shopping excursion for a while and had only arrived the day before.

The young officer diligently took down their information and listened to their explanation of what happened before handing over her card and telling them she would get in touch if anything was recovered. Then, she began surveying the area, looking for posted cameras and asking the surrounding public if they had seen anything. Predictably, no one had or at least no one was willing to admit they had.

Kate's final task before leaving the scene was to check in with the big jolly man himself to see if he, or any of his helper elves, had witnessed the crime that took place just outside their "village." Though it was difficult to see through the crowd, it appeared that in addition to Santa, the village employed three elves: one manning the cash register, another helping Santa with the kids, and a third manning the booth handing out the pictures that people purchased with Saint Nick.

Considering her options, Kate decided to go in the "exit" side of the village to speak with the young man she estimated to be around twenty years old handing out purchased photographs. He was the one closest to the path on which the robbery took place and she hoped the one most likely to have witnessed anything. After waiting patiently for a young mother to pick up a picture in which her son appeared to be wailing, Kate spoke to the boy wearing a green elf hat, but was no help; according to him, he'd seen nothing.

Stepping back to let the next customer pick up their photo, Kate observed the area again. The cash register was facing the opposite direction of the path and, given how busy she was, she doubted the girl in a green elfish dress had seen anything, which left only Santa and his companion. They were side-on to the path and thus most likely did not see anything, but she would not have been doing her job if she didn't at least check.

Making her way up the path that traveled behind Santa's North Pole hut, Kate dodged families of excited children until she arrived at the side of where the jolly man was sitting. She waited until the child on his lap—a little girl with hair so blonde it was almost white—vacated the immediate area before clearing her throat and stepping up to the elf costume wearing girl manning the line. "Excuse me," she said, "I need to talk with Santa for a few moments."

While the elf nodded her on, the boy at the front of the line whined, "Hey! I'm supposed to be next!"

His mother tried to shush him, but Kate gazed down at him kindly. "You will be next; I just need to ask Santa some important questions."

Despite her tone, the boy pouted, which Kate ignored before turning to face the man in red. "Um, excuse me? Santa?"

Santa, dressed in his red coat trimmed in red, matching hat, and oversized—albeit quite fake looking—beard, gazed at her. "How can I help you, officer?"

"If I could just speak with you a moment, over here perhaps?" she gestured towards the path that led down to the photo pick up area where they would be out hearing range of the families; the last thing she wanted to do was upset them or cause a panic.

Santa nodded, stood from his seat to follow her where she gestured, and then repeated his question. Kate gazed up at him, now realizing just how tall he was since he wasn't sitting down. Certainly over six feet, she guessed, and judging by the fact that the skin around his eyes and nose was not wrinkled or weathered, but smooth, she assumed him to be younger than the character he was portraying by at least several decades.

"About twenty minutes ago a woman was mugged on the path out there, and I was wondering you saw anything?"

"Mugged?" Santa sounded horrified. His brow knit and he glanced out towards the path where Kate gestured. "Was she hurt?"

"No, she's unharmed, but her purse was stolen."

"Jeez, how awful. No I'm sorry I had no idea. As you can see it's been a pretty steady stream of kids this afternoon—first day we're open and all." From the way his eyes crinkled, she guessed he was smiling, though it was hard to tell with the beard in the way.

She bobbed her head having figured as much. "Well, if you do remember anything or see something else, please don't hesitate to give me a call." She handed over one of her business cards and he reached out his hand for it.

"I will, Officer…Beckett." He read from the card. "Sorry I couldn't be of more help."

She shook off his concern. "No problem, Santa; have a nice day."

* * *

Arriving back at his apartment, Rick Castle pulled his Santa hat off his head, and raked his hand through his sweat-dampened hair. He pulled out his keys, but before sliding them into the lock of his apartment door, he leaned his forearm against the frame, rested his head against it and took in a deep breath. Being Santa really was hard work!

Rick loved people, he really did. He loved children, too. But his first day as Santa had been…well, a lot. He had not anticipated quite that many people and the rapid cycle at which the kids would be seated on his lap and then whisked away again so as to serve as many Santa-fans in the short period of time allowed. Add on top of that the mugging just outside Santa's Village that had him on edge and it was suffice to say that he was completely exhausted. But it was only the first day; things would get easier for the next twenty-four. Or, so he hoped.

Turning the key in the lock, Castle stepped inside to meet the red-headed duo that was his family as they stood in the kitchen together. "Dad!" his ten-year-old called excitedly when he entered. She raced over to him and tried to stop a few feet away, but her sock-covered feet slid against the wood floor. He held out his hands and caught her beneath the arms as she stopped mere inches from him. "How was it?"

"Good, pumpkin; very good."

"Did you talk to lots of kids?"

"I did."

"And they asked for good things for Christmas."

He chuckled and answered honestly. "Some more so than others, but yes, Alexis; it was a good day."

"Do you want something to eat, Darling?"

Rick moved his gaze to the larger of the two red-heads and smiled. "In a few minutes, Mother; I want to shower first." He had been fearful of being too cold sitting outside on that winter day and had thus worn layers beneath his costume. As the afternoon wore on, he realized what a mistake this had been since lifting children up and down off his lap was more difficult work than he anticipated. The following day he would definitely be forgoing the long underwear.

Before he could take more than a step away, Alexis squeezed his arm and said, "I'm glad you're doing this dad."

"Me too, Pumpkin." He tapped the end of her nose with his index finger.

With that, Rick crossed into his bedroom, shedding off his Santa coat and pulling both the white t-shirt and sweat-soaked long-sleeved thermal shirt up and over his head. With a grimace, he dropped both into the hamper. In the bathroom, he began unloading the pockets of his red Santa pants, pulling out a half-eaten candy cane, several tissues, and finally the business card for an Officer Katherine Beckett.

Skimming his hand across his chin, he stared down at the card pinched between his thumb and index finger. Officer Beckett—she had certainly been an interesting addition to his day. Of course he was horrified that a woman had been mugged just outside Santa's Village—this close to Christmas, no less. Still, he was glad to have met the officer even in such unfortunate circumstances. She was, without question, one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen—not to mention the most beautiful officer of the law.

Humming to himself as he placed the card down on the bathroom counter in safe distance from the sink, he wished he had seen something—not just to aid in the solving of the crime, but so that he would have an excuse to call her and maybe even ask her out for a drink. Granted, he had her number, he could have still called her and perhaps would have had it not been for his Christmas mission that month. In January he would date again, but he and Alexis had a busy December ahead of them. Still, as he shed the rest of his get-up in order to shower, he hoped he would be lucky enough to see Officer Beckett again.

* * *

 _ **A/N** : Thanks for reading everyone and I hope you enjoy this quick holiday story. There are 10 chapters and I will be posting one a day._


	2. Chapter 2

**TWO**

Stepping in through the revolving doors of one of Manhattan's many department stores Kate winced as though she'd been sprayed directly in the face with the perfume being peddled by bubbly blonde women in sleek black suits. Christmas décor on the streets was bad enough, but at least she could distract herself with the sounds of engines and honking horns and the dozens of people bumping into her as they passed by, but this? This felt like being assaulted.

As a general rule, Kate avoided department stores beginning in early November for this exact reason. She did not need to be assailed with Christmas trees, brightly colored packages, angels, candy canes, and certainly not anything related to Mr. Claus or his extended family. It was over the top and just too much to bear. Generally, it was easy to avoid those stores, for she doubted she entered them more than a handful of times during the remaining ten months of the year. Unfortunately, her job once again resulted in her breaking her seasonal rule.

With a sigh, Kate made her way passed the jewelry counters and tables stacked high with perfume and lotion sets pre-boxed and wrapped for holiday ease until she reached the escalator. According to dispatch, she was to ascend to the second floor, where a fistfight had broken out when two shoppers wanted the last available item. What kind of item it was, Kate did not know, but she also didn't care whether it was a Barbie doll or a gold bar; nothing justified a fight—in the middle of a high-end store, no less!

Kate did not have to search too far to find the perpetrators. The store manager had them both seated at opposite ends of a bench just outside the homewares section as though they were misbehaving toddlers. She estimated the one to be in his mid-thirties and the other around a decade older. The younger one had a split and bleeding lip, but the elder appeared undamaged.

After speaking to the manger, Kate found out that the fight had broken out over the last Kitchen Aid mixer offered at a deep discount. Initially, the manager wanted to press charges, which was why he'd called the police, but by the time she arrived he'd had a change of heart. To complete her assignment, Kate separately interviewed each of the men involved to make sure neither wished to press charges of their own; they did not and were then escorted from the store from which they had been banned for the remainder of the holiday season.

With the men out on the street going their separate ways, Kate returned to the second floor to get the manager to sign his statement and then collected her notebook and documents with the intention to leave. On her way back to the escalator, she passed the store's Santa meet-and-greet area, which now had a sign stating that the jolly man had returned to the North Pole for the night, but he would be back soon. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Kate continued on her way, only to bump in to the man in red as they both went for the escalator at the same time.

"Ahh, we meet again Officer Beckett."

Kate's brow furrowed. Santa knew her? But how? Gazing up at him, she wondered who could possibly be beneath the beard and red-hat when the ice-blue eyes she spotted struck a chord of recognition. No, she didn't know the man—not exactly—but she had met him a few days earlier during the purse snatching call in Central Park. "Santa? I mean, you're the same Santa from the park?"

"I am indeed. So what brings you here, Officer? Checking off some items on your Christmas list?"

"Ah, no…didn't you see the fight break out?"

Santa's eyes widened and he allowed her to step on the escalator before joining her on the step behind. "Fight? No!"

She almost smiled at his disappointment. "Well two men went at it over a discounted mixer—Merry Christmas," she said with notable sarcasm.

Santa stroked his beard and hummed. "Guess those two will be getting coal from me this year."

"Guess so."

When they reached the bottom of the escalator, they walked together towards the store exit. Kate was unsure of how far "Santa" would follow her, but it wasn't much further than the sidewalk outside, where he walked to the edge to hail a cab. "It was nice to see you again, Officer."

"Ah…yeah…" she said distantly before turning to walk down the street to where she'd left her cruiser. She wasn't sure about calling the encounter "nice" as it hardly had been an encounter at all. Unusual—she would call it unusual. After all: what were the odds of running into the same Santa at two different locations inside of a week? That time of year it seemed very unlikely, but maybe there weren't that many Santas in New York after all.

* * *

"Thank you for your donation…Thank you for your donation…Happy holidays…Thank you…"

With each repetitive gratitude and well wish, Rick's voice grew progressively wearier. Rubbing his gloved fingers over his eyes, he was not sure what was worse: the persistent 'thank you's or the incessant bell ringing. Sighing, he switched the large brass bell from his right hand to his left in order to give his wrist a break then almost winced when the clanging sound started up once more.

He didn't mind helping, really. He was an on-call Santa that season and as such had to take work wherever a Santa needed to fill in. (Because of course there was a New York City Santa collective. This was a fact he only became recently aware of, but, really, he should have known.) Bell ringing, however, was quickly becoming his least favorite. It was giving him a headache…and felt like a slow decent into madness. Oh well, only a few more hours.

When he and Alexis first began plotting their Christmas project, Rick thought he could just pick a place to volunteer to be a Santa, get himself a costume, and that would be all. He quickly learned that such thoughts were far over-simplifying the situation. Apparently, there was quite a Santa cooperative in place already with a hierarchy and everything. Some Santas had decades of experience and they did not look kindly upon a "newbie" such as himself—even if he did have altruistic reasons for wanting to be a Santa.

Several weeks of string pulling and making donations followed until he'd landed his post as a floater Santa who filled in whenever a full-bellied jolly fellow was needed. Unlike some other Santas, he did not have a set location or schedule. On one hand, this added to the fun, but on the other it complicated things quite heavily. His daughter was still too young to be left home alone and his mother was doing a holiday show, meaning he needed to use his readied rolodex of babysitters, which was fine—it was all part of the experience.

"Thank you for your donation; have a happy holiday." Rick said when a man walking by dumped a fist-full of change into his collection bucket.

Fighting a yawn, the man gazed down the sidewalk at his fellow bell-ringer a few hundred feet away. He had introduced himself to that Santa upon arrival for his shift and found that his name was Charles. Charles was a postal worker, who liked donating his spare time to collecting money for those less fortunate. He had two kids and two grandchildren with one more on the way and Rick was all too happy to share a sidewalk with him as Charles seemed to be a good man.

When thanking another busy New Yorker for donating a one dollar bill to his pot, Rick lifted up his right leg and rolled his ankle, fighting a wince. As his usual job involved him sitting at a desk and typing on a keyboard all day, he was not used to being on his feet standing in one position for almost four hours straight. He was wearing comfortable loafers in anticipation of said standing, but he decided that if he were to pull a bell ringer shift again, he may need to invest in those comfortable air-pillow shoe insoles that were always advertised on television.

Before he could think too much more about his aching feet, Rick was distracted by a horrifying scene unfolding before him. A scrawny individual wearing a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up over his head and down across his brow ran into Charles from behind, knocking him and his pot of collected money to the ground. As gasps and yelps arose from the surrounding crowd, the hoodie-clad man gathered up all the change and bills he could, stuffing them into the pouch of his sweatshirt before sprinting off again, leaving destruction in his wake.

Abandoning own post, Rick rushed over and knelt down next to Charles, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Charles, buddy, are you okay?"

The downed man groaned. "I-I think so. Probably. Knocked the wind out of me, though."

Scowl on his face, Rick looked in the direction the man had taken off before digging out his phone from his pants pocket and calling for the police.

* * *

By the time the officer arrived twelve minutes later, Rick had helped Charles to his feet and righted the collection stand. Kind passersby had helped scoop up the change and what few bills remained to return it to the bin. Meanwhile, Charles, whose shoulder and arm felt sore after he landed on them during the fall, rested against the side of the nearby building.

"Excuse me, are you the man that called for police assistance?"

Rick did a double-take when he saw the uniformed woman, her brown hair in a bun below her black cap, step up beside them. "Officer Beckett?!"

"I…you," she said, her tone indicating disbelief. "Are you the only Santa in this city?!"

He chuckled. "Far from it, but seeing as this is the third time we've met up I'm beginning to think its fate."

"Or you have terrible luck."

Though he knew the officer was referring to the incidents he was involved in—or at least adjacent to—he heartily disagreed. Running in to her again and again meant he had very good luck.

"Sir, are you injured?" she asked Charles. "Would you like me to call you an ambulance?"

Charles shook his head. "No, no; I'll be fine. Just a little banged up."

"Could you tell me what happened please?"

The men tag-teamed their response, but unfortunately were not very helpful. Charles had not seen the perpetrator at all since he was approached from behind. Since the man wore a hoodie, Rick's description was weak at best, and he was once again forced to apologize to the officer for being unhelpful. She assured him it wasn't his fault before telling them she was going inside to see if the neighboring store had security cameras on that part of the street.

As Charles seemed rather weary, Rick told him to go home and that he would take care of turning in the money remaining in his collection bin. The elder man thanked him and was gone by the time the officer returned to say with disappointment that the store had no functioning cameras on the street, so they were at a dead end with their Christmas donation money caper.

"I'm really sorry I didn't get a better look at the guy," he said with a sigh.

She shook her head. "Don't worry about it; you did what you could. Just one more thing before I go—I realize I don't know your actual name and I need it for my report."

"Kris Kringle." He deadpanned, but then a second later said, "No, I'm kidding—it's Rick Rodgers."

She jotted it down in her notebook and nodded. "Thanks."

"No, thank you—for all that you do. And it's nice to officially meet you, Officer Beckett."

She placed her hand in his when he extended it and said, "Kate; my name is Kate."

He smiled and shook her hand firmly. "Kate Beckett; it's nice to officially meet you."


	3. Chapter 3

**THREE**

Arriving in Central Park that blustery day in the second week of December, Kate Beckett pulled her gloves on a little bit tighter and dipped her chin into the open V of her jacket as she made her way down the crowded walking path. She had been a cop for several years so she was used to patrolling outdoors, but that did not make biting temperatures any easier to tolerate. She would have happily sat inside her heated cruiser for the duration of her shift, but that was not her assignment—not that day.

It was quite ridiculous really, but somehow that particularly holiday season had brought out the worst in the greater population of Manhattan, or so it seemed. Ever since the first of the month, violence in and around Christmas displays and Santa visiting location had escalated so much that two days earlier the commissioner had announced that from that day through to the holiday itself there would be increased police presence at all Santa locations throughout the city in hopes of deterring violence and making it a happy, safe holiday for all.

Kate truly did not understand what had gotten in to people that month. She didn't like Christmas, but that didn't mean she was going to pick up a plastic candy cane sculpture and attempt to beat an elf with it. What would be the point of that? Injuring said elf would not make Christmas go away or pass any easier considering she'd be doing so from the inside of a jail cell. Then again, she would not attack any one for any reason at all, so it was hard to get in the mindset.

Now, thanks to the idiocy of others, she was stuck patrolling Santa's Village—quite literally. The prior day she'd been informed that until told otherwise her shifts would take place in the Central Park location of Santa's residence. Typically, a daily patrol such as that one would have been assigned to an officer below the ranking that she had, but that close to mid-December everyone had to pull their weight due to the strain the holidays put on the NYPD as a whole. Plus, by taking the patrol with a smile (even if she cringed internally) she would earn herself some bonus points with her superiors, which would come in handy when she passed her detective's exam, hopefully in the next few months. As a result, she was stuck suffering in front of the scene that had truly become a winter wonderland after the one inch snow overnight.

The prior afternoon when she arrived at the location, Kate was unsurprised that the Santa in the Central Park Village was none other than the one who had seemingly become her Christmas Past, Present, and Future: Rick Rodgers. Not wanting her unannounced presence to alarm him, she'd informed him about her patrol, and he'd expressed gratitude that she was ensuring the safety of those wishing to make pleasant holiday memories. Other than that, they had not really interacted as she was busy working the area.

The day before had been rather boring, with no reportable incidents. Kate expected the same of that day, but grew concerned when, upon her arrival, she spotted a red-headed little girl sitting alone on a bench just outside the exit to Santa's Village. She was well bundled up with a hat, earmuffs, scarf, puffy jacket and boots, but still her pale cheeks and the tip of her nose were rosy from the nippy air. Kate watched her for several minutes, expecting a parent to return to her side, but none ever did, she merely sat there with her hands tucked beneath her thighs appearing as casual as ever.

Kate wandered back and forth in front of the girl under the guise of being on patrol, but really she used it as an excuse to observe. The girl was young, but definitely school-aged; maybe ten or eleven, which meant she most likely should not have been in Central Park all by herself. Kate's curiosity grew progressively until finally, when nearly ten minutes had passed and no adult showed up to claim her, she knew she needed to step in.

"Excuse me, miss, are you okay? Do you need help?" she asked when she stopped in front of the girl.

The red-head looked up at her with bright blue eyes and said simply. "No."

Kate glanced around one more time before asking, "Are you here with someone?"

"My dad."

"And where is he?"

"He's Santa."

Kate considered this momentarily. Did the girl mean that her father was a Santa impersonator? Perhaps like the man sitting in the village behind her? Or was she lost and simply telling a tale? "What's his name?"

"Rick. And I'm Alexis. What's your name?"

Breathing a sigh of relief, she cracked a small smile. So this was Santa Rick's little girl. While she was glad the girl wasn't lost, Kate remained slightly concerned that she was sitting so far away from her father. It was, after all, New York City. Offering a smile, she held out her gloved hand to the younger girl. "My name is Officer Beckett; it's nice to meet you."

Alexis shook her hand with a green-mitten covered one before asking, "Have you ever been shot?"

With the girl's question coming completely out of the blue, Kate stammered initially. "Wha…um, no. why would you ask that?"

The red-head shrugged. "You're a cop."

"Cops don't usually get shot."

"They do in the movies. And in books."

The officer's brow wrinkled. What kind of books was this little girl reading that had so many cops being shot? Kate momentarily tried to recall the types of books that she read in elementary school, but she could not; evidently she was too old to remember. She did know, however, that her books did not involve anyone being shot; they were definitely lighter fare.

"Well, um, I'm just here making sure that everyone is safe and happy when they're visiting Santa."

Alexis almost laughed. "Well, you can't make everyone happy. My dad told me how some kids get really mad when he tells them he can't get them a spaceship or a real working lightsaber."

Observing the area while still standing beside the young girl Kate said, "I'm sure," though she was only half listening to what the girl was saying.

"Are you doing anything special for Christmas? Will you be seeing your mom and dad?"

Kate glanced down at the girl briefly. Catching glimpse of her innocent expression, Kate could not be mad; she was just being friendly and conversational, which was rather impressive for a girl her age. Still, Alexis had broached not one but two subjects she had zero interest in discussing with anyone, let alone a stranger. "Sorry, I—I'd rather not talk about my family."

Unfazed, the girl continued. "That's okay. I'm going to spend Christmas with my dad. And my grandmother. Should I stop talking to you?"

Kate turned to face the girl again. "No, you don't have to it's just… I need to do my job, too." Truthfully, she did not feel comfortable leaving the girl by herself on the bench. She could still observe the area reasonably well from where she stood by Alexis, but she could not be completely invested in their conversation. Fortunately, the girl nodded.

"I understand; being a police officer is very important."

Kate smiled. "It is, indeed."

* * *

With the "Santa has gone for cookies and milk" sign securely in place, Rick loped down the walkway leading to the exit of Santa's Village in order to check on his daughter. When he did not find her seated on the bench by the photo pickup both—the spot he had specifically told her not to leave—he momentarily panicked, but his heart rate settled down when he saw her long red hair a few feet away where she stood next to a uniformed officer. Though the officer's back was to him, Rick did not have to wonder who it was and suddenly he was not surprised at all that Alexis had been drawn to her. Like father, like daughter.

Smiling beneath his oversized beard, he made his way out of the village area and over to the two women. Despite the light breeze and busy sidewalk, he could hear his daughter chattering away and wondered just how long her motor-mouth had been distracting the good officer from her work. "Alexis," he said, stepping up beside them, "I hope you're not bothering Officer Beckett while she's on duty."

The officer smiled at him. "She's fine; don't worry."

The red-head reached out and took his hand. "We've been having a nice chat, Daddy."

"I'm sure you have been, but Officer Beckett is working."

"I talk to you when you're working." She rationalized.

"That's different. I'm sorry." He apologized to the lovely woman, who appeared even more beautiful now that her cheeks and nose had been kissed with color.

She shook off his concern. "Really, it's fine. I was glad to have some distraction."

As a quick burst of wind made Rick wince and shiver involuntarily, he gazed over at the officer to see her do the same. Up in his Santa hut he was well protected from the elements. Plus, conveniently, there was a space heater, though it did very little to raise the temperature. He had not realized just how cold it was until he was down on the sidewalk with everyone else. As Kate rubbed her hands together vigorously, he commented, "It is chilly out here today. How much longer is your shift?"

She shrugged. "Few hours."

"And you can't go inside?" Alexis asked.

"Can I buy you a hot chocolate or coffee?" He offered both in hopes of keeping her warm, and as a thank you for dealing with Alexis, since he knew from experience how one-sided conversations with her could be.

She smiled politely. "That's not necessary, Santa."

"Please—I insist."

"Our treat!" The young girl chimed in, bouncing up on the balls of her feet.

Kate gazed around tentatively and then back to the father-daughter duo. "I have to stay here."

"We'll bring it back."

Giving in, she shrugged. "I…sure, coffee or anything is fine."

"You don't want to pick your poison?"

"A vanilla latte? With soy milk, please."

"You got it." Looping his arm around his daughter's shoulders, Rick guided her down the path towards the closest Starbucks. Once they were out of view of Santa's Village, he pulled his beard down from his face and reminded her, "You know, Alexis, you shouldn't bother police officers when they're on duty unless there's an emergency."

"She started talking to me first, Dad." The girl defended. "I think she thought I was lost."

"You mean because you weren't sitting where I asked you to?"

She looked away, sheepish. "I didn't go far. I just went to pet a dog that everyone was saying hi to and I just sat down. Sorry Dad."

He squeezed her shoulder. "Just don't do it again, Pumpkin. I can't watch you every second and I want to make sure you're safe."

"Officer Beckett was making sure I was safe, Dad. I like her; she's real nice."

He smiled. "I like her too."


	4. Chapter 4

**FOUR**

Sitting at the small table in the kitchen of her apartment, Kate half-heartedly dragged her fork through the remains of her takeout meal. She took one more tentative bite, grimaced, and then took the whole container—fork and all—and shoved it into her refrigerator. After polishing off her glass of wine, she folded her arms and wandered aimlessly into the living area of her apartment, unsure of what to do. That night was her first one without a shift in over a week so she should have had plenty to occupy her time—and there was, but it all happened to be things she didn't want to do. (Who did want to do laundry on a Tuesday night?)

She surveyed her apartment for any used dishes or glasses that had escaped the kitchen and found only one, which she carried over and placed in the sink. Raking her hand back through her hair, she walked over to the small desk she had set up in the corner of the place, butting up against the exposed brick. She gathered up the three file folders sitting there and dropped to the floor, spreading them out evenly over the hardwood.

With her desk barely big enough to house a laptop, pen, and paper at the same time, Kate needed to use the floor for larger projects, but that was ok. It afforded her plenty of space and she didn't have to worry about her papers drooping off the edge and potentially scattering about. Methodically, she opened each of the three folders and sifted through the papers inside, pulling out what she wanted and arching them around her spot on the floor, where she had tucked her legs beneath her to allow the most space for documents.

For the better part of twenty minutes Kate leafed through and examined all that she had collected before leaning both palms against the ground, dropping her head to her chest and sighing. The frustration she felt for her mother's murder case was beyond description. She had been certain—convinced!—the moment she got her hands on the file she would be able to solve the case, but perhaps she'd just had unrealistic expectations. How could she, a rookie who had yet to pass the detective's exam, solve a cold-case that had baffled seasoned detectives? She wanted to badly enough, but that just couldn't compare to a lack of facts and data.

Nearly six months had passed since she'd snuck into the basement records room, found her mother's case file and photocopied all of it. Such a move could have resulted in a suspension or, at the very least, a strong reprimand, but for her it was worth the risk; it had been the reason she became a police officer in the first place. Her mother's case was the one she just had to solve and she would work on it tirelessly until her dying day if that's what it took.

At first, she'd made good progressed and uncovered things she believed would lead to discovering the true identity of those that had ended her mother's life. She outright refused to believe the report's conclusion that her mother had died as a result of random gang violence. In Kate's opinion that was lazy detective work, plus even if that was the case, it still did not explain what her mother was doing in that area of the city at that time of night, particularly when she was supposed to be across town meeting her family for dinner.

Within just a few weeks Kate's perceived success dropped off steadily and every new thing she thought she uncovered turned into a dead end, or a lead she could not pursue because she did not yet have the clearance or authority. Ever since, opening the case files generally resulted in her feeling sadder than ever before, but still she persisted, determined to find that one crumb of a detail that would unravel the whole story.

After thirty-five minutes Kate gave up and put all the files back in order and returned them to her desk. Facing yet another Christmas without her mother was hard enough, particularly with her father just over a year out of rehab and still at a delicate juncture on his path to recovery. She did not need to depress or upset herself further by reviewing the same pages over and over again when she practically had them memorized; they were not going to provide her with any new information.

Pacing around her apartment like a lion trapped behind safety glass at the zoo, an out of place object on her bookshelf caught Kate's eye. She walked over to examine the offset book, presumably one she'd bumped the last time she dusted the shelves, and saw that it was actually one of her Richard Castle novels—of course that would be the one she'd find in that moment. She pulled the title from the shelf and lovingly traced her hands over the cover, feeling the smooth surface beneath her fingertips. She flipped it over and spotted the author's handsome black-and-white photo in the bottom right corner along with the brief bio: _Mr. Castle lives in New York with his wife and daughter._

Kate hugged the book to her chest for a moment before returning it to the shelf. Castle's books had helped her so much in the wake of her mother's death. She'd been floundering, drowning, looking for a reason—something that would make sense of the horrible tragedy. Her mother was gone, her father slipping away, and she felt completely adrift with nothing to grab on to for support. Then, on a whim, she'd picked up one of his older titles at a used book store and his writing spoke to her on a level she'd never found in books before. Yes, tragedies happened within them, but there was always a conclusion—an ending that made sense. She soon found herself buying everything from his collection and reading them again and again. They made her feel better; they helped her come out the other side.

Feeling the walls of her apartment beginning to crush in on her, Kate decided she needed to go out for a walk, even if that did mean encountering the cheerful Christmas decorations that covered nearly every inch of the city—well, the inches that weren't already covered with menorahs. Just a few blocks from her apartment, Kate stepped aside to let by a father-daughter duo toting a Christmas tree between them. The girl with a flowing blonde ponytail was probably thirteen or fourteen—still young, but large enough to help her father carrying the medium-sized tree. When they passed by and Kate heard the girl laugh, she was reminded of Santa Rick and his daughter Alexis and their encounter from a few days earlier.

As she had been semi-permanently assigned to the Central Park Santa's Village, Kate had seen Rick during her prior five shifts. Though she was mostly patrolling out on the sidewalk, she did occasionally venture up to the North Pole hut, particularly after she learned he had a space heater up there. She would listen to him interact with the children and parents, almost never ceasing to make them smile or laugh. In truth, Santa Rick was the first thing even remotely related to Christmas that had made her smile in half a decade. He had such whimsy and enthusiasm. It was clear he truly loved children and what he was doing, silly as it was.

Given this, it made complete sense that his daughter had been such a delight during their encounter. She was chatty—that was undeniable—but so sweet and curious that Kate really didn't mind. After they'd brought her a hot drink and left again, she was almost disappointed to see them go, for it would mean the remainder of her shift would certainly pass by more slowly and she hoped to run in to the little girl again before Santa's Village closed up for good.

Making her way down the street, her hands tucked into her coat pockets, Kate heard a distinct, "Ho, ho, ho!" float towards her. She stopped walking, blinked, and looked around the area. How…no, no it couldn't be him. She wasn't anywhere near Central Park! There was no way that Rick was…

Just then, she caught sight of a large, red-clad figure stepping out of a tree lot down the sidewalk—the same lot that the man and little girl had presumably purchased their tree from a few minutes earlier. Judging by the gates she could hear squeaking into place, the tree lost must have been closing up for the evening, which meant Santa was on his way out. She continued walking, deciding that saying hello would be the polite thing to do, but when she was only half a block away she stopped walking again.

Wait—what was she doing? What on earth was she doing? She was going out of her way to say hello to Santa Rick? That was ridiculous—absurd. She didn't _like_ him. He had a daughter which meant that he was probably married. She had never previously been attracted to married men—and for good reason. They were married! Clearly, the holiday atmosphere had set her on edge and the sorrow of missing her mother was messing with her emotions.

She had only turned halfway in the other direction when she heard, "Officer Beckett?"

 _Shit_.

* * *

Rick walked towards the woman now statuesque a few feet away. He stopped just in front of her and rocked back on his heels. "You're not looking for me, are you?"

"Wha—ah, no. No, not at all. I was just on a walk."

"Ah!" He proclaimed, tugging down his beard so that his mouth was exposed, though it still butted up against his jaw, covering most of his chin with faux white fluff. "Fate strikes again."

"I don't know about that."

As a writer and a man with a fantastical imagination, Rick did like to believe in the concept of fate and, man, was it working overtime for him that season. Running into Kate as often he did was certainly borderline divine intervention. Her working the Central Park Santa Village was just plain old good luck but this? A random encounter when she was out of uniform and looking as lovely as ever in a pea coat, boots and skinny jeans? Yep, this was definitely fate at work.

"Want some company? You look like you could use someone to talk to." He observed of her tight-knit brow and hard-set shoulders.

She dipped her eyes towards the ground. "Oh, ah, no I'm fine."

"Yeah, sure c'mon. Let me buy you a drink."

Her eyes flicked towards the hand dangling at his left side and then back to his face. "Won't your wife mind that?"

"I don't have a wife…oh!" He gasped when his mild confusion faded into recognition. Holding up his left hand, he grimaced at the gold band that appeared on his fourth finger. Of course she thought you were married, moron, he chastised himself; you're wearing a wedding ring! "This? It's part of the costume. Mrs. Claus and all that. It is my ring, though—was. I've been divorced a few years." He did not intend to wear the ring—honestly, he was shocked he still owned it and had not burned it in effigy or tossed it into the Atlantic ocean—but it was Alexis who insisted. Santa Claus was not Santa Claus without his misses.

"Oh."

He smiled cheekily at her. "So now that you know I'm not looking for a mistress…drink?"

She took a half-step back, shaking her head. "I really should be getting home. Maybe some other time?"

Rick could not tell if she was saying so genuinely—that he had caught her at a bad time, but she would be willing to go out with him at some point in the future—or if she was just being polite, though uninterested in seeing him outside of his Santa getup. "Sure. Will you be at Santa's Village again? This weekend maybe?"

"Ah…I don't know. Possibly."

He nodded. Her hesitant sounding answer made him fear she fell into the later, uninterested category. "Well, I hope you will be. It was nice to see you again."

"You too."

Rick stood on the sidewalk and watched her walk away until she disappeared into the groups of passing people and he could no longer see her. When he turned to walk to the closest subway station, he could not help but wonder why fate would bring her to him only to have her be uninterested. Were that the case, he and fate were going to need to have a long conversation.


	5. Chapter 5

**FIVE**

"Oh, hey; thanks." Rick grinned when his friend handed over the extra-large sized cup full of steaming java. "That space heater is doing nothin' today."

Kate shivered involuntarily while cradling her own cup tightly in an attempt to absorb all the warmth radiating from it. "Tell me about it." Given that the high temperature that day was a positively unpleasant thirty-one the day would have been miserable enough were it not for the on-and-off sleet that had been falling down on them. Simply put: she was thrilled her shift was over and was all too happy to be getting out of the wet and cold, but not before delivering coffee to Rick as she had promised to do.

The prior two days at Santa's Village had an atypical amount of downtime that the Santa representative deemed to be the lull between the early birds and those rushing to get their Santa time in at the last minute. As such, she and Rick had a few conversations lasting a few minutes each during which the spoke about nothing in particularly—just general, superficial subjects—but Kate had enjoyed them. The man in red made her laugh and forget about the frigid feeling in her fingers and toes. Perhaps even more surprising was the fact that she actually looked forward to being in Santa's Village as long as he was there. Well, as much as she could look forward to being exposed to the elements for hours on end.

"Well, um, enjoy your coffee; hope the next few hours go quickly for you."

"Wait, hang on a second." He reached out and touched her arm before she could walk away and she turned back, curious. "I know this is kind of last minute, but you're not free tomorrow night, are you?"

"Why…?"

He offered an enticing smile. "I was wondering if you'd like to be my date for my company's holiday party; it's tomorrow at seven."

Her brow wrinkled and her eyes grazed over his red suit with white trim. "The Santa guild has a Christmas party?"

"No, no—my other job. My real job." He corrected.

She couldn't say she was shocked to learn he had another job other than being Santa Claus; it only made sense given that his positions were most if not all voluntarily, but she was curious to know what sort of job allowed him a schedule flexible enough to be Santa at all hours of both weekdays and weekends. "Which is?"

"I work in publishing."

Kate pressed her lips together at his explanation, which was vague at best. She could not honestly say she was shocked that he was asking her out in a more official capacity. When they had run into each other on the street a few days earlier he certainly had been hinting about taking her out so she figured he'd ask again, but thought it might not be until closer to the end of the season. Nevertheless, she'd prepared an answer just in case. "That's a very flattering offer Rick, but I don't think I should."

He tilted his head to the side, not deterred but merely curious. "Why not?"

Truth be told, she did not really have a good reason. Rick was a nice guy and she had no problem hanging out with him for parts of her shift. She would even go as far as to say that she preferred him to some of the other Santas she'd encountered that season. The plain and simple answer was that she wasn't big on complicating her life with relationships, especially not when she was working so hard on getting her detective certification. And considering Rick had a child he would complicate her life far more than the average man, but she did not want to say any of that aloud, so she merely shrugged her shoulders.

"Look, you don't even have to think of it as a date. We'll just hang out. Please?"

His persistent grin was making it difficult for her to say no, so she quipped. "Can't the reindeer set you up with someone?" When he gave her a displeased look, she felt a funny flutter in her heart and groaned, feeling herself almost giving in. "I…where is it?"

"An art gallery. Sorry I don't know the exact details off the top of my head, but I will call you with them as soon as I get home, I promise. C'mon…free food and drinks—where's the harm?"

Her teeth grazed over her bottom lip and she hoped she did not regret her decision. "Ah…okay; fine." She would go with him as a non-date and enjoy free food and drink—that was all.

His face lit with relief. "Awesome! That's great—really great. Thank you so much, Kate. I'll call you with the details tonight and I'll see you tomorrow!"

"Ah…yeah. Tomorrow."

What had she gotten herself in to?

* * *

"Well I think we had quite a good haul today, Pumpkin; wouldn't you say?" Rick commented when they arrived home and he was unable to unlock the door of their apartment with all the bags he juggled. He had to have his daughter fish the keys from his pocket and unlock the door herself since she was bag-free.

"Yeah; I hope it's enough—we're getting so close to Christmas! Only eight days!"

He nodded. "Well then I guess we'll have to add up the receipts and figure out where we're at. C'mon."

He led the way towards his office where their Christmas Project station was set up, but he could hear his daughter shuffling her feet reluctantly behind him. "Daaaaaad." She whined.

"Alexiiiiiisssss." He mirrored her tone.

He set their seven shopping bags in a row in front of his desk and then pulled the receipt from each of them to hand to his littler girl along with a large notepad and pencil. "This is like homework." She huffed when she accepted the items.

He smiled and took a seat at the desk. "No it's like life, my dear. You don't think you'll ever have to use math in real life?"

"You don't."

"Of course I do. We're going to use it right now." He pointed out. With a deep and dramatic sigh that reminded him of Alexis's grandmother, the girl turned to her notepad to begin the addition process.

When two months earlier his daughter had come to him very seriously saying that she wanted to talk about Christmas, he had expected her to regale him with a list of desired items like she had in years prior. Instead, she totally shocked him by saying that she wanted to donate her presents that year to children in need. Evidently, one of her classmates had to drop out of the private school she attended due to the fact that his parents were unable to pay the tuition. In asking around Alexis learned just how many kids there were in the city that were far less fortunate than she.

Though Rick always tried to give his daughter a well-balanced world view, she was just barely ten years old and thus could not completely conceptualize all the socio-economic groups there were in New York. She asked plenty of questions—as she often did—and the more she discovered about just how many people in need of assistance there were, the more she wanted to help. Rick had never been prouder as a father.

They talked it through and he promised her that of course she did not have to give up every one of her Christmas presents to the needy. They would, however, have a lighter Christmas between them, but shop more heavily and donate nearly all their purchases to homeless shelters and orphanages around the New York area. Volunteering as Santa was also part of this plan.

"How much did you come up with, sweetie?"

"One thousand, two hundred, and fifty-seven, I think." She handed him the notebook so that he could check her math. He did so quickly on his calculator and then directed her towards their tracking sheet where she colored in the twelve hundred dollar equivalent. Once she was done, Rick stood from his seat and walked back around to the bags to collect them once more.

"All right, let's take these all back to the other room so they're ready when your grandmother gets here; I need to shower soon; don't want to be late."

Alexis picked up two of the bags while he took the rest and carried them to the area of their living room that had become present wrapping central. That evening his mother was babysitting and assisting in the wrapping process while he went to the Black Pawn Christmas party with the police officer who, much to his delight, had agreed to accompany him.

"Are you going to date Officer Beckett now?"

Rick knelt down beside his little girl and took her arm. "I don't know, sweetie. We're still getting to know each other, but I do like her."

"I like her too; she's very pretty."

He smiled in agreement. "She is."

"And she's much nicer than Gina."

He fought a laugh. Yes, Kate was nicer than Gina, but so were many militant dictators, so that wasn't exactly a fair comparison. "Definitely…what's wrong?" He asked when her saw her brow begin to wrinkle. "Don't you want me to date Officer Beckett?"

"No!" The young girl assured him quickly. "No—I just hope you get married again dad; you deserve it."

He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "You don't need to worry about me, pumpkin; I'm just fine. We're fine, right?"

"Sure…but I want you to be your happiest."

He gave her a quick hug before disappearing into his bedroom to get ready for the evening. As he pulled out his suit and pressed shirt, Rick's heart weighted heavily. Ever since her mother left five years earlier, Alexis has been acting far more grown up than she needed to be. He knew that in part it was just her way; she was incredibly mature for her age. Yet, at the same time, she worried about him more than she needed to. He'd kept Gina at and arm's length from Alexis during their relationship because…well, she was Gina, one of the least motherly individuals he'd ever known, but Kate? She was different. She was kind and thoughtful and he would not feel uncomfortable with her interacting with Alexis. That was assuming she wanted to, which was something he still needed to figure out and he was hoping that evening would give him a better idea.


	6. Chapter 6

**SIX**

Kate arrived at the mid-town art gallery hosting Black Pawn's holiday party five minutes ahead of schedule. Good, that was good. It gave her time to pace back and forth on the sidewalk and hopefully rid her belly of the butterflies that seemed insistent upon ramming themselves into her diaphragm. Repeatedly.

Grumbling to herself as she tapped her clutch purse against her hand, Kate sucked in a deep breath, annoyed she felt so nervous. It was just a date—not even a date. A non-date date. She had been on dates before—plenty of them. They came with no lifelong commitment or, really, no commitment at all. If in half an hour she was having a horrible time she could simply walk out, leave, and never see Rick again. Well…maybe she'd see him once or twice more at Santa's Village, but after Christmas she would most assuredly never—

 _Oh god!_ She stopped walking when a realization hit her: she had never actually seen Rick out of his Santa costume. She had only ever seen him with the hat, beard, and what she assumed to be a fake padded belly. Well, okay, there was that one time he'd pulled the beard down, but it still covered most of his face, so she didn't even know what he looked like other than his eyes. She'd never seen him properly smile! What a disaster.

Resuming her pacing, Kate turned towards the glass windows of the gallery, taking a few moments to observe the interior. Plenty of people had already arrived and were milling about wearing their holiday party best. Kate was glad she'd had the forethought to pull out her fanciest black dress for the event; the last thing she wanted to do was be _that_ person—the one who was tragically underdressed.

Walking further down the sidewalk, she observed the interior of the party from a different angle. From that spot, she could see a few oversized cardboard cutouts of Black Pawn's logo and their two feature authors. One was a man she did not recognize, the other she definitely did.

 _Shit_! Richard Castle wrote for Black Pawn—did that mean he was going to be at the party!?

A new wave of panic crashed over her that almost made her stomach flip over and dump all those butterflies into her gullet. Swallowing hard she closed her eyes and sucked in a breath through her nose. It was fine; it was totally going to be fine. Even if Richard Castle was at the party, he probably was not interested in saying hello to her. Except—shit—what if someone introduced him to her? She would have to say hello. God, what would she say? He would probably think she was just a silly fan; that was why she had chickened out of going to his signing earlier that year. The next time, she had told herself at the time, but if she saw him tonight…well, at least she'd get the opportunity to thank him—assuming she could get out the words.

Opening her eyes again, she gazed at the cardboard cut-out of the writer that appeared to be life size. The picture also appeared to be more current than the one she'd admired on the back of his books. He had a few more crinkles around his eyes, but that did not make him unattractive. If anything, the opposite was true. As she gazed at the blue eyes in the cardboard cutout, her heart fluttered and the back of her neck prickled uncomfortably. Those crinkles around the eyes…and the cheekbones seemed so familiar…

 _Richard Castle lives in New York with his wife and daughter_. Rick was short for Richard…and Alexis—oh god! She'd looked at a book that was seven years old—back before his divorce!

Oh shit—oh, holy shit! It had been him all along! She had inadvertently agreed to go out on a date with Richard Castle and oh, dear god—why the hell was Richard Castle dressed as Santa in Central Park!?

No, no, she couldn't think about that. He was going to be there in a matter of minutes, see her, and she would have to talk to him and they would—

"Kate." His smooth voice hit her ears and she whipped around with a gasp. He stood just two feet from her looking—well, gorgeous—in a tuxedo with a crisp white shirt and black tie. He smiled at her, the corners of those blue eyes crinkling. "You look stunning."

"You lied to me!"

He took a half step back when the words blasted from her mouth. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you lie to me?"

"About what? What are you talking about?"

His confusion seemed genuine, which only served to irritate her more. Planting a fist at her hip, she mocked a deeper tone. "My name is Rick Rodgers and I work in publishing."

"Those aren't lies."

"But…You're Richard Castle!" She spluttered, her chest heaving.

He took a step closer, holding his hand up, palm out. "Rodgers is my birth name; I changed it. Look okay, you're right-what I said was definitely a misrepresentation, but I was trying to be a little bit incognito. Are you really that upset?"

His even tone succeeded in calming her slightly—though only a little bit. "I'm...surprised." Flabbergasted, more like it. Not to mention slightly embarrassed.

"Understandable. And I apologize; I should have been honest with you when I invited you here, please don't let my mistake ruin our evening."

"I...okay." She relented. She was already there, after all. But Richard Castle?! God, how was she going to get through the evening as his date? It was all so surreal; nothing made sense. "I just…why are you Santa?"

"Research," he said simply. Then, he held out his hand towards the art gallery entrance and they began their approach. A slow smile crossing his face, he looked at her and said, "So have you read my books?"

Her eyes avoided his and she internally cursed when she felt her cheeks heat. "Maybe."

"You have," he concluded, his grin widening.

She cleared her throat and tried to remain casual. "Yes. Is that a problem?"

"Not at all. C'mon; let's go inside. Let me take your coat."

* * *

An hour later, Kate was still confused as to how she felt with regards to the man standing beside her having polite conversation with fellow Black Pawn bigwigs. Had he been the man she expected to spend the evening with, the man she knew only as Santa Rick, she would have been overjoyed, for he had been the perfect date. He continually checked to see that she had enough to eat and drink, he introduced her politely to everyone they came across, and as they made their way through crowded areas, he placed his hand delicately on her mid-back to make sure they weren't separated. However, the man with the winning smile and sparkling blue eyes was not Santa Rick—well, not just Santa Rick.

Richard Castle, the author, was a man she'd admired from afar for years. His words had spoken to her, comforted her, and guided her through the part of her grieving process she thought she'd never be able to get out of. She wanted to thank that author for what he had done, but had never imagined their relationship beyond that sole interaction.

Now, as it turned out, that same man was the one who was incredible with children, made her laugh when she least expected it and, perhaps most tellingly, made her not despise Christmas for the first time in years. He was someone real, someone she could see herself really carrying about—him and his daughter—which, considering all that he was, terrified her.

"Kate?"

"Hmm? What? Sorry." She quickly apologized when her internal thoughts had proved distracting and she missed something he said to her.

"Just wondered if you wanted another glass of champagne, or perhaps something else?"

"Oh." Kate gazed down into her nearly empty flute—her second of the night—and decided against more alcohol. "No, I'm fine thanks. I'm, ah, actually just going to go to the restroom."

He bobbed his head as he took her glass to pass over to the waiter. "Sure. Want me to hold your purse?"

"Ah…no. Thanks. I'm fine."

"Okay. I'll wait right here."

Kate shook her head as she walked away. He offered to hold her purse on the first date? Was he even a real person or someone out of a catalog?

Inside the ladies' room, Kate shut herself in a stall and leaned back against the door. She shut her eyes, took in a deep breath and asked herself one question: should she really like Richard Castle? She did like him—well, the Santa Rick version of him—but was that a good idea? He was, well, famous. Not George Clooney famous, but he was certainly notable—recognizable by name. He lived a life far different than her boring NYPD existence and was that really a world she would fit into? Or, would they go out for a little while—just long enough to cause great heartbreak when, ultimately, the relationship ended because their lives were simply too different.

Shaking her head, Kate pushed herself away from the stall door and tried to collect herself. Perhaps she was thinking too far ahead. Perhaps Rick didn't even like her in that way. He liked her in some way or he would not have invited her out with him and he was being quite gentlemanly, but maybe that was just his way. Maybe he would not be interested in her beyond that night and her problem would be solved.

Her shoulders set and head high, Kate stepped out of the toilet stall and approached the sink to wash her hands and check her makeup. She didn't even take notice of the blonde woman at the sink beside hers until the woman spoke.

"So how long have you and Rick been together?"

Kate glanced to her left wide-eyed, completely shocked that someone would recognize her as being "with" Rick, only to realize the woman beside her was one she was introduced to earlier: Gina, Rick's agent, which meant she had much more stake in her client than a casual observer. Relaxing a bit, Kate clarified, "We're not together."

"Really?"

Kate casually shrugged at the woman's surprised tone. "We're just friends."

"Does he know that?" She retorted. Turning off the faucet, she reached for one of the paper towels on a stack between the sink and blotted her hands dry. "He's one of a kind, Kate; don't break his heart." With that, she tossed her paper towel towards the trashcan, it fell on the floor, but she didn't notice; she was already out the door.

* * *

Richard Castle stood sipping his new glass of champagne waiting for his date to return quite pleased with himself. The evening was going even better than he anticipated, which considering it started a bit rocky made him very, very happy.

Not revealing his true identity to her—that was on him; totally his fault. He shouldn't have played coy with "I work in publishing" during the invitation, but he was enjoying having her like him for him and not wonder if she was interested in his minor fame or his money. When Kate smiled at him, she smiled at _him_ , not his writer alter-ego.

Fortunately, he'd managed to smooth things over—and discover that she was actually a fan, which was an added bonus. Well, he assumed she was a fan given how flustered she'd appeared upon discovering his true identity. Someone who didn't know or care about his works would not have acted as such, and that made him even happier.

In his mind, their evening together could not have been going better. Was he going a bit over the top and pushing himself to an eleven on the scale of one-to-ten when it came to being a gentleman? Absolutely. In part, that was to smooth over the identity faux-pas he made, but he also wanted to give Kate a great night. In his mind, there was no doubt the evening was ending with a kiss. Hopefully it would also conclude with planning another date—or five; he'd be happy either way.

He honestly wasn't she he could put into words why he was attracted to her. She was beautiful, of course, even more so in her evening gown, but his attraction was beyond the physical. Something within her made him curious. She was kind and always smiled at him, but yet when she looked away he noticed a sadness that didn't quite fit. She was dedicated to her profession, which was commendable, but it also confused him, for had he met her in any other circumstance he would have been stunned to learn she was a police officer; she just didn't seem to fit the profile. He wanted to know more about her and her life; the desire to do so was almost beyond his control and he hoped that, in time, they would grow closer.

"I have to go."

Rick's head whipped around to face his date, who had just returned from the restroom looking a bit paler than before. "What? Are you feeling sick?"

"I…maybe. I'm sorry."

He shook his head and drained the last of his champagne. "Don't apologize. C'mon, I'll get a car to take you home."

She held up her hand to stop him. "No. No. You stay; it's your party. I'll be fine."

His brow wrinkled. "You sure?"

She nodded. "Thanks, um, for the invite."

"Oh. Sure anytime. Actually I-"

"See you, Rick," she said while already walking away from him. As soon as the words left her mouth she turned and practically ran towards the coat check area.

Rick stood rather dumbfounded in the same spot for several moments wondering what the hell had just happened. They were having a nice time, weren't they? So what had suddenly changed. Sure, she may have actually fallen ill, which was unavoidable, he wouldn't have minded that, but something told him there was more to the story. He'd let her go that night, but he was definitely going to call her the following day. He would not be satisfied if that was truly their goodbye.


	7. Chapter 7

**SEVEN**

Kate bit down hard on her thumbnail when her cell phone rang and displayed Rick's number again that morning. His first call had been just after nine-thirty, the second a half hour later, and this, the third, fifteen minutes after the second. She groaned and set down the phone as it continued to chirp with her ringtone. God, why was he making things so difficult?

Normally when she did this with men they called once, left a message, which she did not return, and that was that; they went their separate ways. It was easier that way—for her to just fade away as opposed to having an awkward conversation that involved phrases like, "I'm just really busy with work" or, "I'm focusing on my career right now."

Kate knew this was not the best way to go about her life: it was cowardly and, in some cases, outright mean. Normally, meanness and cowardice were not two terms she would have used to describe herself—particularly not in her work life. But when it came to matters of the heart? It was simply her way to cut things off at the knees before they got too serious—before she could get hurt.

Ironically, she only did this with men she actually had feelings for. If she had gone to the gallery with Rick and he was rude, unkind, or simply unpleasant to be around, she would have ended their evening by telling him things weren't going to work out, or that he wasn't the kind of person she was looking for. Of course, Rick had not been rude or unkind; he had been the exact opposite.

On paper, Rick had done everything right; he had been the perfect date. Had she let herself relax and enjoy his company, she would have had a great evening, but like usual she was stuck in her head thinking about the man she knew as Santa for two weeks and how he intertwined with the author who had meant so much to her. Had he been another man she might not have felt bad about dating him for a few weeks—maybe even a few months—and then ending things, but somehow she was already feeling guilty. Deep down she knew the reason why, but she refused to even think the notion since that would make it true.

As the ringing persisted, Kate groaned to herself and snatched the phone up from the counter; maybe if she just spoke to him he would stop and she could go back to a Santa-free life. "Hello?"

"H-hi—hey—Kate! Um, hello?" He stammered and stumbled as though he had been just about to give up on the call when she answered. Kate rounded her shoulders and immediately wished she'd waited out the ringing a few seconds longer.

"Hi Rick."

"I, um, I called to see if you were feeling all right; I was concerned."

Of course he was, because that's completely sweet and perfect of him… "I'm fine; thanks."

"Great! Glad to hear it! I, um, I also called to see if maybe you wanted to come over this afternoon. We're making Christmas cookies."

As she assumed "we" to mean he and his daughter, Kate had no interest in accepting; she did not need to intrude on what could only be presumed to be a family tradition. "No, thank you."

"R-really?" He stumbled again, sounding caught off guard. "Free cookies don't entice you at all?"

She shut her eyes and shook her head. He couldn't just accept the negative response? God, why did she bother answering the phone? "It's not that. It, um, that sounds like a family holiday thing and I don't really do Christmas so-"

"What does that mean? Everyone does Christmas."

She gave the phone an annoyed look. "Wha—no. Not everybody does Christmas. Entire countries do not do Christmas."

"Yeah, but that's religious stuff—that's not your reasoning."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. C'mon. You can make some non-denominational stars or snowflakes—those aren't Christmas items."

She shook her head even though he could not see her. "Really, Rick, I can't, but I appreciate the invitation."

"Oh. Okay." His tone sounded sad and it made her feel irrationally guilty. "Have a nice Sunday, Kate"

"Yeah…you too."

She set down the phone on the counter with a sigh. She did not need to feel bad about not wanting to bake Christmas cookies with Rick and his daughter; she did not! They barely knew each other and baking cookies was…okay, not the most intimate of tasks, but it was a holiday event and given that she had more than enough of Christmas already that year, she felt more comfortable steering clear.

With one last tentative look at her phone, Kate shook her head and pushed herself away from the kitchen counter and moved into the bedroom where a pile of laundry was waiting for her.

* * *

"Excuse me, are you Officer Beckett?"

Kate glanced up from her computer to see a bike messenger standing beside her desk. As she had never received a delivery from a bike messenger before she responded with, "Um, yes?"

The boy she guessed to be no older than nineteen or twenty nodded, pulled a brown paper wrapped box from his bag, and set it on her desk. Then, he held out his clipboard. "Sign please."

She did so and then the messenger left without another word. Curious, Kate turned her eyes towards the box he had left and examined it curiously. The package was rectangular, perhaps two-thirds the size of a shoebox, and as far as she could tell had no external markings that would indicate its origin. She picked it up and felt the contents shift and bump inside the container, which both confused and concerned her.

Not wanting to live in suspense any longer, she clawed open the taped end of the wrapping and found a clear plastic Tupperware container filled with homemade cookies. Not just any homemade cookies, though: holiday cookies. There was a note taped to the top of the container, but Kate did not need to read it to know where her delivery originated. She picked up the container to hold at eye level and found three varieties of cookies inside: chocolate chip, some type of oatmeal cookie, and cut-out sugar cookies in various shapes. She took note, however, that most of the shapes appeared to be snowflakes and stars; there wasn't a Christmas tree in sight.

Grumbling slightly, she popped open the top of the container, pulled out a decorated star and munched down on it as she plucked the note from its tapped position.

 _Kate, Thank you for making this city a safer place; we appreciate all that you do. Rick & Alexis._

As she popped the rest of the delicious sugar cookie into her mouth, Kate dropped the note and folded her arms over her chest in a pout. Of course. Of course he would do this—of course he would try to nudge her into calling him and thanking him. Because she had to call and thank him, didn't she? She could not call him and not thank him…which would probably make her a jerk, but if she never intended to see him again, did that really matter?

Except that he was her favorite author and he would think she was a jerk.

 _Damn it_.

As she reached for her phone, she thought of the one bright side: at least she was able to call Rick and was not forced to thank him in person; that would have been a more difficult conversation to get through. Of course, she was not entirely glad for this due to the situation. She was scheduled to be at the Central Park Santa Village that day, just like the week before, but on her way into the park she'd witnessed a shop owner viciously attacking a homeless man sleeping outside his business. She'd arrested the man and taken him back to her precinct for processing, and as a result dispatch had sent another officer to cover Santa-land that day.

"Kate. Hello." The writer answered his phone with an obviously pleased tone.

"H-Hi. I just wanted to, um, thank you for the cookies; that was very kind."

"Of course – you're very welcome. And I'm glad you called because I was wondering if you're interested in dinner this evening."

She shut her eyes and placed her hand against her forehead. Why hadn't she seen that coming? "Ah…I don't know."

"Kate, if you're not interested in me, you can just say. I won't be offended. And I certainly don't want you to think I'm bothering you."

"Wha—ah—no, no you're not bothering me I just…" She hesitated to think of an excuse that wasn't, "it's not you; it's me." "You know, this is Christmas week and-"

"You're not into Christmas, I know. Well, dinner won't have any Christmas foods if that's what you're worried about."

"No, it's not that. It's just…is this a date?" she asked, wanting to know clearly where they stood.

"Not exactly. My daughter will be here."

"Where?"

"Sorry I should have been clearer: I want you to come to my apartment and I'll make you dinner."

"Oh." Rick making her dinner at his apartment sure sounded like a date, but if his daughter was going to be there it wouldn't classify. God, she was a mess when it came to things like this. It would have been so much easier if she just said no, she wasn't interested in him, and ended things before they began. That would have been a lie, though; she was interested. Rick intrigued her and something—a force inside her beyond her control—compelled her to agree to the meal. "Sure. Okay. Thank you."

"No problem at all. The address is 595 Broome Street and we're in the penthouses apartment. Dinner will be ready at six—if that's okay?"

"Sure; I'll see you then."

They said their goodbyes and the moment Kate hung up her phone she collapsed forward against her desk and moaned. What was happening to her? Was she about to date Richard Castle? That was, quite possibly, the most unexpected thing she could have imagined short of someone from a European royal family asking her out. But Richard Castle? A man with a child? Was that a good idea?

She honestly was not sure, but decided she would use that evening's meal to find out.

* * *

Setting his cell phone down on his desk, Rick smiled to himself, leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. Kate Beckett was coming to dinner and that was a very, very good thing.

Though he'd been suspicious of her sudden departure from the art gallery, he wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt and take her word at face value—perhaps she had simply fallen ill and wanted to go home; there was no shame in that. For that reason, he called her the following morning to invite her to what he felt was a totally casual, no pressure situation—and that had failed miserably, but of course he had not been deterred. Ever the optimist, it took a lot to deter Richard Castle.

Despite the fact that their Sunday phone conversation did not end as he would have liked, he gained valuable knowledge from it: Kate didn't "do" Christmas. He was not entirely sure what that meant but felt it safe to say she was not in an overly enthusiastic yuletide mood. This knowledge actually helped explain their situation a bit more clearly.

From everything he'd observed, he believed Kate did like him. The way she laughed and smiled made his heart flutter joyfully. She was beautiful and interesting and he wanted to get to know her better. He thought that feeling was mutual, and as such turning down his invitation the way she had confused him. However, if Kate did not like Christmas he felt it safe to assume she was in a peculiar mood for the duration of the season, of which they were fully entrenched.

If Kate did like him, but struggled to like anything around Christmastime, Rick simply needed to wait the holiday out, which was perfectly fine as it was only a few days away. If he could just keep in casual contact with her then maybe come the New Year they could be something. He had absolutely no problem waiting, but just wanted to make sure he had something to wait for, which was why he intended to make that evening's meal as fun and as enticing as possible.


	8. Chapter 8

**EIGHT**

Promptly at six p.m., just as Rick pulled his baked ziti casserole from the oven and set it on a wooden cutting board, the buzzer to his apartment rang and he smiled; she had perfect timing. Tossing his oven mitts onto the counter, he hurried to the door to greet his dinner guest with a smile. She stepped inside, he took her coat, and then gestured around the apartment giving her what called the "fifty cent tour." Judging by her wide-eyed expression, she might have deemed the value a bit higher.

"Can I get you some wine?" he offered as he walked towards the kitchen.

"Please."

"Red okay?"

"Sure."

He nodded and poured her a glass from the bottle he had already opened. He passed it over with a smile and she thanked him. "Alexis should be down in a minute and dinner is cooling, but before we sit down I just wanted to say that I really appreciate you coming. I know you seemed hesitant, but I'm glad you're giving us a chance."

She lowered her gaze and flushed, presumably slightly embarrassed. "It's not that I don't like you—both of you—it's just..."

Rick took a few steps towards her when she did not continue her sentence. "What? You can tell me." She lifted her chin and when he caught sight of her enticing, honey-brown eyes, the breath left his chest. She was stunningly beautiful, but yet seemed so sad. In that moment he knew he'd listen to any story she had to tell for hours on end, never tiring. He wanted to know her and, more importantly, he wanted to make her happier, especially at Christmastime.

"I-"

"Dad!"

Their tender moment was disrupted by a petite red-head thundering down the stairs. Shaking his head to bring him back to the present, Rick stepped around his dinner guest and faced his daughter. "Sweetie, you remember Kate, right? She's joining us for dinner."

"Hi," she said in a tone far too somber for her usual excited-about-life attitude.

The writer crouched down in front of her. "What's wrong, pumpkin?"

Alexis sighed heavily. "Mom said I can't come next week."

The writer's brow furrowed as he had not been aware Alexis was speaking to her mother. "What?"

"She said I can't come, that she got a part and she'll be busy with rehearsal and maybe I can come sometime in January instead."

"Did she," Rick said in a clipped tone. He couldn't say he was shocked; it was classic Meredith for her to pull something like this, however it was extra disappointing given the upcoming holiday. "Well. I guess she and I will be talking about that later."

Alexis shrugged and walked over to her seat at the table. "It's fine dad. She doesn't want me out there so good I'm not going."

Rick stood, flashed an apologetic look to the police officer, and then followed his daughter. "Alexis, honey, you know it's not that your mom doesn't want you out there but sometimes she-"

"Dad." His daughter cut him off in a tone sharper than he normally would have allowed. "I'm ten. You can stop making excuses for her."

Rick opened his mouth to argue, but he really had no defense to present. Meredith was who she was. She would never be the perfect mother. In fact, most times it was hard enough to get her to be a half decent mother. It was sad that Alexis had to accept that at such a young age, but there was nothing he could do about it; it was the reality in which they lived.

He kissed his daughter's head and then returned to the kitchen where he offered a quiet apology to Kate. She reasoned with a soft smile and said, "Don't worry about it."

He mirrored her expression. "Why don't you go have a seat?"

"Do you need any help?"

He gestured towards the salad bowl on the counter and asked her to take it and she did so while he dealt with the still very warm pan of baked ziti. When he joined them at the table, Kate had taken the seat across from Alexis and was pulling her napkin into her lap.

"I hope you get to spend Christmas with you mom," Alexis said to their guest before gasping. "Oh! Sorry I forgot I'm not supposed to ask about your family."

Rick's brow wrinkled as he had not been privy to that part of conversation, but then he realized it must have taken place the day Kate met Alexis at the Central Park Santa Village.

Kate offered a soft smile while holding out her plate for Rick to dish out some of their meal. "It's okay, Alexis. Actually, ah, my mother passed away."

The red-head cringed. "I'm so sorry!"

She shook her head. "You didn't know; it's fine."

"When did she die?"

"Alexis!" Rick scolded and the girl shrank back in her seat, leaving her fork balanced on the edge of her plate.

Kate shook her head as she looked at the elder man. "It's fine, Rick. She died almost six years ago."

Alexis apologized again, and Rick announced, "Let's talk about something else."

Kate offered him a gracious look before turning towards the young girl. "How many days of school do you have left, Alexis?"

"Two and a half which is two too many!"

Both adults chuckled at her dramatic tone.

* * *

"You sure have a lot of Christmas presents," Rick heard Kate comment from across the room. He was still at the sink, cleaning up from their meal while Alexis had insisted upon showing Kate all the Christmas decorations she had made with her grandmother.

Knowing her distaste for Christmas, Rick had initially tried to steer Alexis to a different subject, but she patted his arm as she walked by him and offered a steady gaze, which to him meant she was okay with whatever stories Alexis was about to regale her with, though he very much doubted she knew exactly what she was getting into, because Alexis's storytelling capabilities were beginning to rival his.

Drying his hands on a towel, Rick walked to the edge of the kitchen and observed the two women. All things considered, the dinner had gone well—very well. Alexis told them all about school and asked Kate dozens of questions about her job, which the young officer entertained as best she could. He could tell at several points she was dancing around an honest answer and one that would be age appropriate, so he jumped in to save her, but Kate took it in stride and every time she smiled he felt more confident that they had a future together.

"Oh, those aren't for me."

"They're…not?"

Alexis looked around Kate to catch her father's eye. "Can I show her, Dad?"

Kate spun around to look at him as well. "Show me what?"

Rick nodded towards the office. "Go ahead, pumpkin."

Grin spreading across her face, Alexis grabbed on to Kate's arm and yanked her towards the office. She followed, a bit dumbfounded asking, "What are you showing me?"

"The Christmas Project!"

"The—what?"

Rick trailed along behind them so that they all stood in front of the large poster board propped up against the side of the desk in his office. On it was a thermometer-shaped image colored in almost entirely with red marker, though the way the colored patches were uneven and shaded at different angles, it was clear the coloring had been done at different times. The right side of the thermometer ticked off their status in increments of five hundred dollars all the way up to their goal of ten thousand. The fact that they had purchased over nine thousand dollars to date was truly a testament to just how determined his daughter was and Rick could not have been prouder.

"What is this?" Kate asked again.

"Our Christmas project!" The red-head proudly proclaimed. Then, crouching down, she pointed towards the thermometer. "See, this is where we've been tracking everything. It was dad's idea."

"The thermometer was, but the rest was Alexis." Rick pointed out.

"No, not just me!"

"Okay, it was both of us together. We wanted to give back this holiday season." He added as an explanation to the slightly confused looking woman.

She looked between him and the chart for several moments before saying, "I…I thought you said you were being Santa for book research."

He waggled his hand back and forth to indicate that comment had been a half-truth. "I am—you can never do enough research, but it's also for this. I'm collecting ideas for toys and gifts, making sure kids can get what they want even if they don't have much else."

"And see—we almost made it to our goal!" the young girl added.

Kate smiled down at her. "Ten thousand is a good goal; raising that amount of money will help a lot of people."

Alexis looked up at Kate as though the elder woman had suggested cows could sprout wings and fly. "It's not how much we're raising; it's how much we're _buying._ "

"She means in gifts and toys."

Kate's jaw dropped as she looked at the writer. "You bought ten thousand dollars in toys?"

He shrugged. "Toys, clothing, personal care items…we've already delivered some, too. The rest'll get delivered Friday afternoon to shelters around the city. Just in time for Christmas." He concluded with a smile.

Alexis grabbed on to Kate's hand and squeezed. "You should come with us."

"Oh—oh." Kate seemed almost taken aback for a moment before she recovered and knelt down to look the girl in the eye. "That sounds so nice, Alexis, and I appreciate you inviting me, but I have a shift Friday afternoon. I'll be with you in spirit, though. And I'll tell you what—I'd like to send some toys along if you don't mind? So then you'll have more than ten thousand dollars' worth of things."

"Thank you!" Alexis proclaimed, pulling the woman into an unexpected hug, which she returned by patting Alexis's back.

Rick smiled at the duo. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself—okay, he was _definitely_ getting ahead of himself since he and Kate had yet to even kiss, but seeing the two women together made him happy. Though as a single father he was always wary as to how much he allowed women he was dating to be involved in Alexis's life, he did trust the young girl's instincts and judgment and would never have wanted to be with anyone she didn't like. It was obvious that would not be a problem with Kate.

"Alright, Alexis, I believe it's time for _somebody_ to go and get ready for bed

"Nooooo." She whined and frowned up at him, pouting out her bottom lip dramatically.

He gave her a pointed stare. "It's a school night."

She threw her head back dramatically. "Fine!"

Once the girl had stormed her way out of his office, Rick looked at the woman who now appeared the slightest bit uncomfortable. "Should I, um, go?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Not if you don't want to. I just need about…ten minutes? If you don't mind waiting." She smiled and shook her head. "Great. Have a seat, grab a book if you want—I've got a few to choose from." He added with a wink, gesturing to the bookshelves that lined the walls to his office, which, at last count, contained nearly a thousand titles.

* * *

Standing in the middle of Rick's living room, her hands cradling a now empty glass of wine, Kate truly wasn't sure what to make of the evening she was in the middle of. She was certainly having a nice time. Alexis was a joyful child and Kate loved the rapport she and Rick had together. Though she had entered in to a situation that could have easily made her feel like an outsider, it never had. She felt immediately at home in Rick's space—once she got over the shock of how expansive it was. Now that she had discovered their Christmas Project, she was caught off-guard one again.

Learning that Rick and his daughter were donating ten thousand dollars' worth of goods to the needy that holiday season added another layer to her already complicated feelings. It wasn't so much the money—given what she knew about his career and what she had seen in his apartment, she was sure his wealth expanded into the tens of millions—but how he was going about it, and how he was involving his child. Anyone could write a check and mail it to a charity. While that was commendable in its own right, it was not the same as Rick and Alexis's hands on approach. Simply put: she was amazed.

Standing in his space, taking in the warm if not slightly masculine undertones, looking at family photos and (strangely) an unusual amount of action figures lining shelves and bookcases, Kate finally admitted to herself that she did have feelings for Rick. What those feelings were, exactly, was too hard to specify at that time, but there definitely were feelings. Still, she wondered how she would fit in to his life and how he would fit in to hers since, the best she could tell, they were quite different.

When she heard Rick descending the stairs several minutes later, Kate remembered what had happened upon her arrival: Alexis had told her father that her mother canceled their Christmas visit and he had said he wanted to talk about it with his ex. Suddenly, Kate felt very out of place. There she was, standing there waiting for him, when he probably had family matters to attend to.

Walking over to the kitchen, she placed her wine goblet down on the counter and looked at him. "If you need to talk to your ex before it gets too late I can just-"

"No." He cut her off as though the thought could not have been further from his mind. "No—I'll save that fun for tomorrow; no sense in ruining the evening."

Kate nodded, though she was unable to suppress her curiosity about what sort of dynamic Rick's former wife had with the rest of the family. "I'm assuming she's not local."

"Meredith has been in California after our divorce about five years ago. She's an actress."

Kate thought back to their dinner conversation. "Didn't you say your mother is an actress?"

"Yes...you say that like you're judging me."

She almost laughed, but managed to shake her head. "Merely observing—taking it all in. Like this." She gestured toward the pile of presents waiting to be delivered to those less fortunate. "It's incredibly impressive."

He took a few steps closer to her. "Does it make you want to celebrate Christmas?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't." Even if Santa Claus himself had jumped out and announced that he was real and had arrived to grant everyone's wishes she still would not have wanted to celebrate; Christmas just wasn't part of her life anymore.

"Did your mother die at Christmastime?"

Her eyes flared wide but before she could respond in a way she might later have regretted, the writer held up his hands, palms facing her. "I'm sorry—just guessing, trying to find the story; it's my worst flaw."

She cracked a smile at his helpless shrug. Sliding her hands down into her pockets, she felt the words tumble out of her mouth with almost surprising ease. "January ninth. We hadn't taken the tree down yet. She always said it was so much work she wanted to enjoy it for a month before taking all the decorations down. So after the funeral when we finally got out the boxes and put away the ornaments it was for good."

His brow wrinkled. "Is that really what she would have wanted? I'm sorry, I won't presume to know her—especially since we haven't known each other that long—but it seems to me that someone who wanted to celebrate Christmas so thoroughly wouldn't want their family to stop just because she wasn't there to participate. You can still celebrate Christmas by remembering her."

It was a nice thought, Kate had to admit, and maybe for other families it would have worked. They would have a special ornament dedicated to the lost loved one; an ornament that would adorn the tree and make it seem as though they were still there celebrating, even though they weren't. That, however, was not how Kate saw Christmas—not what she and her father had decided on doing. Celebrating without her mother there served only as a painful reminder of her absence, so she deleted the holiday from her calendar, signed up for extra shifts at work, and simply waited for January to arrive.

Clearing her throat, Kate wandered over to the edge of the kitchen and decided to change the subject back to him. "As someone who sees just how many homeless and needy this city has on a daily basis, I just want you to know how incredible your Christmas project is."

She turned back to watch him shrug. "I don't know about that."

"It is. You're donating your time, your money...that's a lot, more than most."

"And I think that's sad." He took a few steps towards the apartment windows and gestured out of them as he spoke. "This city's had a pretty rough time the past couple years and I think those of us fortunate enough to give back should, whenever we can, especially now—at Christmas."

She gave him a soft smile. "I can tell you're a fan." If his speech hadn't been enough of an indication, the fact that most surfaces of the apartment were practically dripping in yuletide cheer would have been a giveaway.

He grinned. "I am—completely. It's such a magical time of year filled with hope and possibility." He walked back over to her and leaned his arm against the island counter. "When I was growing up we didn't have a lot of money, but no matter how things were going my mother always made sure Christmas was special. That didn't always mean spending a lot of money, but there were still crafts and games and singing songs. It gave me hope that everything would be okay that next year—that we'd always be able to make our rent and we'd be healthy, happy.

"Christmas is a time of year when everyone comes together and we all have this unity which is missed during most of the other months. Now that I'm fortunate enough to have everything I need and then some, giving back seems the only thing to do. I pass on hope so that others can do the same and hopefully the world will be a better place because of it."

By the end of his speech, Kate could feel the tiny pricks of tears forming at the corner of her eye. She looked away from him briefly, brushed her knuckle against the corner of her left eye, and then looked back to him, shaking her head softly, unable to put into words the feelings fluttering around her chest. "I don't think I've ever met anyone quite like you." He was, without question, incredible—far more than she'd realized when first meeting him, and far more than she'd ever expected.

He looked a bit wary. "Is that a compliment?"

She let out a breathy laugh. "Very much so."

Grinning, he backed his way towards the kitchen. "More wine?"

She'd only had one glass at dinner, but her head was already buzzing from everything she'd taken in that evening. "I probably shouldn't."

He didn't falter. "So…more wine?"

"Just a little." She walked over to the counter where he was pouring out small glasses and settled just a foot away from him. "Thanks again for dinner. It was great."

He handed over her glass and lingered at her side. "You're welcome. I'm very glad you came." He leaned in a little bit closer, but she didn't move away. She dipped her eyes towards his lips and then moved them back to meet his gaze, half expecting him to kiss her, but still feeling unprepared for it when he closed the distance between them. As a result, she didn't really kiss him back, but stood rather statuesque. He pulled back with a wrinkled brow. "Did I…read that wrong?"

She groaned, shook her head and looked away from him. Crap. Her first kiss with Rick—it should have been sweet and not wrought with the nervousness her brain stirred up by screaming over and over again, _You're so different_! Plus it was Christmas and he had a daughter; she'd never before dated anyone with a child. "No… no, it's just. I'm sorry—it's me." She took a long gulp from her wine goblet and then pushed it aside, confessing, "I'm terrible at this relationship stuff and, I…I guess this sounds stupid, but I wasn't sure how you felt about me until your publisher said something and then I-"

"Who?" he asked seeming genuinely confused.

"Oh, is it your agent?" She corrected, realizing her mistake. "Gina?"

The writer's eyes flared wide and he took a step back from her. "Oh. Well that's ironic. We somewhat recently broke up."

"Somewhat recently?"

"Four months give or take. Oh!" He gasped and pointed to her. "This was at the party—it's why you left so quickly?"

She nodded and dropped her chin. "I'm sorry. It was childish I know, but I was still trying to wrap my head around Santa Rick and my favorite author being the same person and-"

"Favorite author?" he interrupted with a cheeky grin.

"Wha…" Shit, she had said that out loud hadn't she? So much for keeping that little fact to herself. Her cheeks feeling as though they'd been set aflame, she mumbled out, "Um…yeah."

He shrugged. "Just checking. Go on."

"I… panicked?" She offered in as apologetic a tone as she could muster.

The writer seemed nonplused. "But why?"

She shrugged and skimmed her hand over her neck. "Relationships are just…I'm not… I'm sorry—see. I'm bad at this and you have a child, who is lovely, and I don't want to…"

"Kate." He stepped forward and took her hand to cut off her rambling. "This doesn't have to be complicated. If you're not interested in me at all…well, I don't imagine we'd be having this conversation, but if you'd rather keep things friendly, especially through the holiday season, I'm fine with that. I just…I don't want to not see you, because I am interested. Very interested."

She nodded and let him pull her into a hug. He really was being far more understanding than she deserved, which meant she could only conclude that he was being genuine when he said he was interested in her. She still wasn't sure how she felt about entering into a relationship with a man with a child—particularly when she'd admired that man from afar for many years—but the events of that evening proved they deserved a chance.

As she slid out of his arms Kate pressed her lips against his, wanting to make sure their only kiss wasn't an awkward one. He smiled down at her and said, "Thanks for coming to dinner."

"Thanks for inviting me."

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks for all your reviews so far. Remember, there are only 10 chapters in total, so 2 updates to go :)


	9. Chapter 9

**NINE**

"Honestly, this world is going to total shit—I swear to god. This close to Christmas and everything!"

Kate glanced up from the mug of coffee she was pouring at two of her colleagues who entered the breakroom together. Though both of them had been on the force longer than her, she ranked above them thanks to diligent focus on her career. One of them in particular—the one that hadn't been speaking—seemed to always be short with her because of it, so she generally steered clear, but as they were the only ones in the breakroom and she was looking for respite from her mind-numbing paperwork, she decided to engage. "Why is the world going to total shit?"

As they joined her at the coffee pot, the taller of the two said, "My buddy told me that a guy dressed as Santa was stabbed this morning. Just stabbed—well, robbed and stabbed. He had with him a bunch of toys and money he was giving to needy kids, too!" The man shook his head and slurped his coffee. "Awful."

Kate's chest instantly tightened and sweat droplets formed on her brow. "Ah—is—is he okay? The man that was stabbed?"

"Dunno, but my buddy said he was in pretty bad shape. Honestly…how bad is this city getting that Santa gets stabbed three days before Christmas?" he said more to his partner than to Kate.

The duo moved out of the room without much more acknowledgment to the female officer, but she wouldn't have noticed even if they did; she was moments from a panic attack. A man dressed as Santa delivering toys and money to needy kids was stabbed?! Oh god, oh god, could it really be? Was everyone she cared about destined to the same fate?

Gripping onto the breakroom counter with one hand, Kate sucked in a deep breath and tried to think rationally. She and Rick had spoken on the phone for over an hour the night before and he hadn't said anything about making toy deliveries. He talked about working on his next Derrick Storm book and picking up Alexis from her half day at school, but there was no mention of delivering toys. But what if he made a stop to deliver toys on the way to get Alexis? Oh god—what if he made a stop to deliver toys and he had Alexis with him?

Abandoning her coffee mug, Kate raced back to her desk to see if she could find any information about the incident on the NYPD's internal database. It was a long shot since most officers didn't file their reports until later in the day, but maybe there was something—anything—to confirm that Rick was not the man involved in the stabbing.

For the better part of fifteen minutes Kate searched every keyword she could think of, but her only results came from incidents days prior; nothing was current. The more she searched and failed to find information, the more her brain concocted horrifying scenarios. If Rick was stabbed and gravely injured, what would happen to Alexis? Would she be sent to live with the mother that didn't care enough about her to see her for Christmas? Would she have to leave the city and all of her friends?

When finally Kate had exhausted her ability to search, she reached for her phone to dial the writer's number. If he was not the stabbing victim, she would feel very foolish for jumping to such a conclusion, but at least she could finish out her shift with the comforting knowledge that he was okay and remained uninjured. The phone only rang once before going directly to voicemail. Confused, Kate hung up and dialed again only to face the same result. Right to voicemail? What did that mean?

In her panicked state she forgot how phones operated and took a deep breath to think of all of the scenarios by which that could be explained. He could be in a meeting and have his phone off. He could have denied her call and sent it straight to voice mail. He could have been in an area without reception...like a hospital emergency room, where he was receiving medical treatment!

No—no. She was being ridiculous and jumping to conclusions, which was completely unlike her. It was just…well, she cared about him. God, she really cared about him, didn't she? It was almost unbelievable, given how recently they'd met. They'd barely kissed, been on only one date—which she'd left early from. Still, she cared about him. She cared about him more than she even realized until the moment she thought something tragic may have happened to him. Rick was kind, sweet, and made her laugh; she looked forward to getting to know him and his family and definitely was not ready for their journey to end before it even began.

* * *

Rick was casually crossing through his kitchen in search of something to drink when a knock at the apartment door drew his attention. Strange; he wasn't expecting anyone at that time of day. Ever curious, he crossed the room and was delighted—if not slightly surprised—to see Kate in her full police uniform.

"Hey," he said when he opened the door. "What are you—oh!" He gasped when she barreled into him, throwing her arms around his neck without saying a word. He chuckled and patted her back. "This is an unexpected greeting."

"Sorry! I—I'm sorry! I just…I'm glad you're okay."

He could hear the tearful edge in her voice as she slid out of his arms and his brow wrinkled. "Why wouldn't I be okay?"

She shook her head. "You weren't answering your phone."

"My—oh yeah. I was in the writing zone and I only noticed the battery had died about ten minutes ago. Is…is that why you were worried about me?" he asked with slight confusion. It was sweet that she was concerned he wasn't answering his phone, though definitely unexpected given that she seemed to want to keep things casual; yet she seemed a bit _too_ concerned, a bit _too_ panicked. Just as he was wondering if she might have been the slightest bit crazy, she stepped into his apartment and explained further.

"I'm sorry to just show up like this—unannounced, but I couldn't get a hold of you and I just…I needed to see if you were okay, because…" She brushed an escaped tear from her right cheek before setting her expression and looking at him. "This morning a man in a Santa costume delivering toys to needy children was stabbed to death. I-I couldn't find his name in our database yet so…"

"Oh Kate." He sighed and stepped forward, pulling her into his arms again. He cradled the back of her head with his right hand and rubbed small circles across her back with his left. No wonder she was upset! It all made perfect sense. "I'm so sorry you were upset, but I promise I haven't left the apartment all day."

She pulled away from him and he saw a few more tears tracking down her cheeks so he brushed them away with his thumbs. "I'm sorry I—I just kind of barged in here." She apologized and took a step back from him. "Do you have a minute?"

"More than a minute. Mother took Alexis to her show's matinee; I don't expect them back until six. Please sit."

They walked to the couch and she took a tissue from the box he held out to her before they sat on adjacent cushions. She pulled her leg underneath her and gripped on to her shin before she began to speak. "See…the reason I was so upset—well, extra upset—is because my mother didn't just die. She was murdered; stabbed to death in a robbery attempt."

Rick shut his eyes and lowered his chin. "Oh, Kate…I'm so sorry." He was sorry that her mother had died in such a tragic way—when she was so young, no less. During their dinner she had informed them it had been nearly six years since her mother passed, and though Rick did not know her exact age, he could not imagine she was older than her mid-twenties, which meant her mother probably died when she was still a teen. Of course, when it came to a parent being taken so violently, he did not imagine age made too much of a difference. No wonder the Christmas season was difficult for her!

On top of all that, she had spent presumably several hours that morning fearing he'd suffered the same fate. True, their relationship was still blossoming, but they were friends and had been for several weeks and it would have been a cruel twist of fate for Kate to lose anyone from her life in the same tragic way. No wonder she'd been reduced to tears.

"And then I thought you…that you might have…" Her voice drifted off as she dabbed the tissue beneath her nose. Looking up to him she said, "I guess what I'm trying to say is that I really care about you even though I was trying not to."

The end of her statement struck him as odd. "Why would you try not to?"

She shrugged, a little bit helpless. "Because it's what I do—what I've done since my mother died. If you care too much about people you can get hurt."

Rick leaned back and twisted his lips to the side, considering that statement. While true, caring for people came with a "take the good with the bad" mantra in his mind. Yes, they could hurt you, but they could also never make you truly happy and joyful if you didn't care about them. "No offense, Kate, but that sounds kind of lonely."

She gave him a half smile. "It can be, but I…I'd like to try and change that."

He smiled. "With me?" She nodded and he reached out to pull her in closer. "I'd like that."

Before she slid into him, she placed her fingertips against his chest. "I…I'm going to try, but I still might be a little cautious for a while. This is…different for me…and a little scary."

He nodded, completely understanding the emotion. "I get that; it's a little scary for me too."

She tilted her head to the side. "Are you just saying that to make me feel better?"

He chuckled. "No. It…it makes me a little nervous to let you into Alexis's life as much as I have already, and to keep letting you in, but it…it feels like the right thing to do; I care about you too, you know?"

She didn't say anything more, but she did fold herself against him and rest her head against his shoulder. He happily looped his arms around her torso, bringing her even closer as they leaned back against the sofa cushions.

They sat that way quietly for the better part of ten minutes before Rick stroked her arm and said, "Can I ask you something you might not be thrilled about?"

She lifted her head and arched a very suspicious eyebrow at him. "Such as…?"

"Am I really your favorite author?" Was he taking advantage of a moment when she was slightly vulnerable? Maybe, but he had been curious ever since she'd let it slip two nights earlier.

"I…maybe." She confessed, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

"C'mon." He stroked her side gently. "You can tell me."

"I…I started reading your books shortly after my mom died. It was a hard time for me but they…they made it better. And so now when I read them they're comforting—god why am I telling you this." She moaned and covered her face with one hand.

He reached over and pulled her hand away. "I'm so glad you're telling me this." Truly, he was. It wasn't so much that he needed to date a fan to plump his ego; quite the opposite. Dating someone who was a super-fan was borderline disturbing and often times their feelings were superficial. He knew Kate's praises were genuine, though, and as someone who worried just how much his books mattered to people, they also meant a great deal. "Thank you."

"Thank _you_." She replied, pressing her palm against the underside of his jaw. He leaned in and kissed her, sweet and tentative at first, but then with growing passion when she parted her lips and pulled her body closer to his.

"So, ah, are we…are we officially a couple now?" he asked, his voice a bit husky after several minutes of kissing.

She grazed her teeth over her bottom lip. "I might be kind of rusty at this. I haven't had a real boyfriend since before I was in the academy."

He nodded and fought to keep a straight face. "Well imaginary boyfriends are easier to deal with."

She poked one of his ribs and he yelped. "You know what I meant."

"Maybe."

She momentarily narrowed her eyes at his smirk, and then softened her expression. "I…I'm going to try, Rick, but also might fail a little bit."

He shook his head and squeezed her hand. "I don't mind, but I think you're being too hard on yourself." Though she gave him a skeptical look, he was certain she was judging herself way too harshly for the simple fact that she was concerned meant she cared more than she probably even realized. And that was okay with him, because he cared, too.


	10. Chapter 10

**TEN**

"Beckett."

The young officer sat up a bit straighter in her chair and turned to face her commanding officer. The mustachioed much older man stood beside her desk, his hands clasped in front of him as he gazed down at her. "Yes sir?"

"I'm sending you home."

Kate blinked for a moment, not sure she had heard correctly. She glanced down at the clock on her computer screen, did a quick mental calculation, and then turned back with confusion. "But...there are over four hours left in my shift, Sir."

He shook his head, firm in his decision. "You've already pulled a double and you'll be here tomorrow. Go. See your family."

She pushed herself away from her desk and stood to face him. What he said was one hundred percent correct and also completely by design. "Sir, I really don't mind."

"But I do. You're more than pulling your weight." He smiled softly at her. "Go."

When her superior walked away, Kate slowly turned back to her computer to save the document she was drafting and begin to log out of all her programs, still not sure of what to do with herself. She'd planned to finish off her shift, grab some Chinese takeout, and then go to bed early since she had the early shift on Christmas day. Now what was she supposed to do with nearly four-and-a-half hours of extra time?

Just as she reached behind her to grasp the coat off the back of her chair, a pair of elfish ears affixed to a headband descended below her nose onto the desk. "Here; for Christmas." Kate looked up to see a dark-skinned female rookie handing out the holiday adornment. Instead of thanking the girl, Kate stood with jaw slightly agape while an ingenious idea formulated in her mind. Elf ears—Santa Claus—Rick and Alexis! The writer and his daughter were delivering presents to homeless shelters that afternoon and if she hurried she could catch up and join them on their quest.

Kate grabbed her coat and the elf ears and hurried away from her desk. She skidded to a stop in front of the elevator and frantically pushed the call button until the doors opened with a chime. She stepped inside, gazed down at festive object she clasped, and laughed at herself. Adorning herself with Christmas accessories? Hurrying to meet up with a man and daughter to deliver presents? Who was she? This was the first thing even remotely Christmas-related she had wanted to do since her mother passed and that had to mean something. Rick meant something. Rick and Alexis. As her heart swelled, she pressed her hand against her chest to alleviate the fluttering. She wasn't sure she would ever feel this way again, but she did, and she thought maybe, just maybe, she was on the cusp of starting a new holiday tradition.

* * *

"Well thanks for letting me tag along, guys; this was great."

Rick looked back over his shoulder at the woman still wearing her elf ear headband. He slung his now empty sack of presents over his right shoulder and pulled off his itchy Santa hat for what he hoped would be the last time that season. "We're glad you could make it." Truly, he was. When she had showed up two hours earlier, elf ears and all, he'd been so caught off guard that it took him a moment to recognize her, but there she stood: rosy cheeks, ear-to-ear grin, and with a handful of seasonal headbands similar to the one she wore. Simply put he was shocked—and very, very pleased.

After she had explained that her shift had been cut short, he happily ushered her in to their final present-giving location, and she and Alexis worked together to unload games, toiletries, and even a few pairs of socks to those less fortunate than they. Even though, as the Santa of their operation, he tasked himself with handing out gifts to the children, Rick found himself continually distracted by Kate and the bright smile on her face. He was thrilled that she had joined them and even more thrilled at the prospect that her presence there meant maybe she was relaxing some of her anti-Christmas rules.

"Are you going to see your dad now, Kate?" Alexis asked as they continued to walk along the sidewalk.

She shook her head. "No, he's at our family cabin upstate; I'll see him next weekend. I'm just going to grab some takeout and head home."

"By yourself!?" Alexis asked as though the concept was the most scandalizing thing she'd ever heard. "Dad."

"Way ahead of you, Pumpkin." He winked at the little girl and then turned to Kate. "C'mon."

She stopped walking. "Wha—oh no. No it's Christmas Eve. I can't possibly."

"You can."

"But-"

"Kate." He half whined at her since she was being ridiculous. There was no reason she needed to spend the evening alone, holiday or not.

"C'mon." Alexis encouraged. "Dad makes the best hot chocolate and you can even pick which movie we watch first."

"See." He smiled at the detective. "That's an offer you can't refuse."

For thirty second she stood with her bottom lip trapped between her teeth gazing back and forth between the father-daughter duo until finally she relented. "Okay, but only for a little while."

Rick reached back and slid his arm around her shoulders so she would not back out of their agreement, but he very much doubted she would only be staying for "a little while"; he definitely would not be satisfied with that.

* * *

"Seven-thirty?" Kate questioned moments after Alexis announced she was heading up to bed. They had just finished watching A Muppet Christmas Carol and she was stunned, figuring the girl would milk at least another hour or so out of her father—it was a holiday, after all.

Alexis gazed at her quiet seriously. "I have to or Santa won't come. He starts his shift at eight, right?"

"Ah—oh. Right. Of course," Kate said quickly, trying to recover from what she hoped was not a faux-pas. The last thing she wanted to do was be the new girlfriend who accidentally spilled the beans about Santa not being real.

"Alexis," Her father said warningly. Then, he turned to Kate. "She's teasing you; she knows there's no Santa." When the red-head smiled innocently at her father, he patted her bottom with the magazine he held. "What do you say?"

"Sorry, Kate."

She shook her head and waved off the event, too relieved to even care that the girl had been teasing.

Rick hugged his daughter and bid her goodnight. Kate wished her a merry Christmas as she headed to the stairs and Alexis returned the sentiment. Kate then helped the writer carry the empty cocoa mugs and bowl of snacks to the kitchen. "Guess I should be going," she said once the items were in the sink. She had stayed several hours longer than she intended to—not that she was complaining.

Spending the afternoon with the Castles handing out presents had been quite magical for Kate. She'd never experienced giving in quite that way before, and was shocked at just how much it tugged at her heartstrings and made tears form at the edge of her eyes. She was so thankful to her superior for giving her the chance to experience something like that—and to find yet another reason why Rick Castle was an amazing man.

She truly did not want to intrude on their family Christmas—she had already shared in their holiday time enough—but the writer had insisted. Apparently his mother had a show that evening so she wouldn't be around; it would just be the two of them, so Kate's arm was twisted into joining them for dinner, Christmas cartoons, and then a full-length movie, but she felt she'd spent more than enough time with him that day and did not want to overstay her welcome.

"Really?" Rick responded as casual as ever as he opened the kitchen cabinets and began to pull objects wrapped up in plastic grocery bags from the highest shelves; Kate assumed these to be some of Alexis's hidden presents. "You don't want to stick around and watch me fail miserably at putting together a pink scooter? We can even have another round of hot chocolates – this time with some Bailey's. Or is this too much Christmas for you?"

She flushed under his half-teasing smile. "You make me sound like the Grinch."

"Never."

Folding her arms over her chest, she walked over and stood in front of him. After a long exhale, she decided to explain her version of Christmas. "You know what my holiday tradition is, Rick? Being on shift. Making sure the city is safe for everyone celebrating. My dad and I…" She shook her head and lowered her gaze momentarily to his mid-chest. "We can't celebrate the holiday like we used to so I found my own way of giving back. Plus, without a family, I'm letting one of my colleagues spend Christmas morning with his kids instead of behind a desk. I really don't mind, but," she paused as her heart began to flutter even more, "it's been almost six years so maybe next year it'll be time for a new tradition."

An ever-present smile on his face, he rubbed his hands over the tops of her shoulders and pressed a gentle kiss on her lips. "You could still stay and leave before anything Christmasy happens."

She half-laughed. "Yeah? And when would that be?"

"Depends. How early is your shift tomorrow?"

"I…Are you asking me to stay the night?" She was nervous to make such an assumption, but his wording had been suggestive, and the darkened gaze he was giving her left very little to the imagination.

Moving his hands from her shoulders to her mid-back, he said, "Maybe I am."

"Rick…" She hesitated as his stare pierced into her heart and sent warm tingles out through all her appendages and a swirl of butterflies that settled in her low-belly. Yes, he was definitely asking her to stay the night and she imagined sleep was not high on their "to-do" list, especially not since his daughter had gone to bed early, but was that really what she wanted? She _wanted_ him—of course she wanted him, but was it too soon? Given her disastrous history with relationships, she wanted—needed—to take things slow and be cautious less she scare herself out of something she really wanted. Plus, she didn't want her judgement to be clouded too much by the enthusiasm of having a nice Christmas for the first time in half a decade.

Buying herself a little more time to answer, she deflected with, "What about the scooter?"

"Alexis is ten; its time she learned how to use power tools."

"Rick!" She laughed loudly, giving his chest a little shove with her fingertips.

He snagged her waist and pulled her close. "C'mon."

"Wait." She stopped him just before their lips met. He gazed at her, curious. "I just… thank you. For everything."

"Always." He replied, casual. Then he kissed her and she looped her arms around his neck thinking about how much her life had changed in three short weeks.

Rick had called their meeting fate, and at the time she'd brushed off the comment as ridiculous, but she hadn't known who he was then. She hadn't known that the comfort she drew from his written words paled in comparison to what his smile, his touch did to her heart. Maybe it was fate. Maybe it was something else. But maybe, just maybe, it was time she believed in the magic of Christmas.

* * *

 **A/N:** Thank you all so much for reading - have a wonderful holiday season!


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